Further and Farther
by Seadragon
Summary: A series of RoyEd snapshots. With a dash of HavocFury on the side. Enjoy.
1. Red

**Red**

"Do you think Ed's alright?" Fury asked suddenly.

Havoc looked up from whatever it was he was, or wasn't not, as the case may be, doing. "Excuse me?"

"I said, do you think Ed's alright? They've been in there for a while now…" Fury said, glancing at Colonel Mustang's closed door.

"I know that. What I meant was the Taisa's opening statement was 'welcome back shorty' and you're worried about Fullmetal?" Havoc said with disbelief.

Fury shrugged. "Someone has to be." Havoc just rolled his eyes and returned to his previous position.

A few seconds ticked past.

They bolted for the door.

Havoc reached it first, despite his nicotine stained lungs, and threw it open. "Taisa? Taisa?! Are you al-"

They froze.

The Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, was seated on the Colonel's desk. Said Colonel had one hand resting on the desk on either side of the blond, and was ravishing the boy's mouth with his own. Fullmetal had his arms draped loosely around the Colonel's neck, his real hand playing with his superior's black hair.

At least, that was what they had been doing until the Sergeant Major and Second Lieutenant had been stupid enough to barge in on them _without even knocking first_.

Ed's eyes flicked open and towards the door. Havoc noticed absently that his face was approximately the same shade as his coat.

It apparently hadn't occurred to either of them to separate themselves. Havoc shrugged inwardly, embarrassment of this scale could do that to a person.

Fury had been slowly backing out of the room and Havoc realized the Sergeant Major was on the right track. He followed, shuffling backwards as quickly as he dared, bracing himself for the roaring flames he knew would be coming their way any second now.

And that was when he bumped into something too soft to be the wall or door.

The following explosions left his ears ringing for quite some time, and every so often, whenever a truck backfired, or someone kicked the wastebasket, he would find himself diving under his desk, hands shaking too wildly to even light a cigarette.

You had to hand it to them though.

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye wasn't easily surprised.

**End**

**a/n: **Yes, I am aware I switch between Colonel and Taisa. If you look closely, you will notice that it is Taisa when spoken, and Colonel when observed.


	2. Smoke and Mirrors

**Smoke and Mirrors**

The door to the outer office was open, giving Colonel Roy Mustang a perfect view of his subordinates' going-ons, without even having to leave his desk. This was very important because it kept First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye from discharging her sidearm at the wall directly behind his head. It was instances such as this that made him, a strict non-believer, pray that the day her aim would falter never came.

As far as he knew without having to dig through his pockets for his silver State Alchemist's watch, it was lunchtime (the clock had been the unfortunate victim of one of Hawkeye's warning shots). He had reached this conclusion because it was the only explanation for how Elric, Havoc, Fury, Breda, and Farman were lounging on the couches in the outer office without having to dodge bullets.

"Lieutenant-"

"Sir?" Hawkeye glanced up from what could only be paperwork- did the woman do anything else?- letting her pen rest for a moment.

"Is Second Lieutenant Havoc doing what I think he's doing?" Mustang asked, not even bothering to disguise the fact that he had been spying on his subordinates instead of doing the paperwork she had added to the already heaping pile on his desk that morning.

Hearing the question, Riza returned to her own papers. "I believe so sir."

Mustang sighed. For a moment there he had hoped that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but nothing ever dared to trick Riza Hawkeye, so that sadly could not be the case. Picking up his own pen, he hastily scribbled his name on a few of the sheets in front of him, even if only so that the Lieutenant couldn't claim he hadn't done anything worth while all day.

"Read them before you sign them Taisa."

Roy grumbled, setting his pen down once again so that he could flip through the papers. How did she always know?

He had actually almost finished reading the first document when a strangled yelp from the next room distracted him. Mustang narrowed his eyes. Someone was going to be on toilet paper duty for a month if he caught them.

Ignoring the warning look sent his way by the Lieutenant- at least it wasn't warning bullets- Mustang looked up from his desk and out into the outer offices.

The so called "soldiers" under his command were giggling like a group of school girls. As far as he could tell, Second Lieutenant Havoc had upended the office wastebasket on Sergeant Major Fury's head.

He briefly considered sending them all home for the day, if only for some peace and quiet. Thankfully he realized just in time that that would leave him without an excuse for why his signature wasn't on ever single one of those documents. And without an excuse, his life was forfeit.

Roy watched with barely contained amusement as a blush spread across the Sergeant Major's face when Havoc pulled the can off his head and began picking the trash out of his black hair for him. Of course, his hair was more of an ash gray now, as the majority of the garbage had been Havoc's cigarette butts.

He noticed with no less amusement that the Fullmetal Alchemist, for all his strength and skill, kept having to edge backwards on the couch as Fury tried to escape Havoc's wandering fingers.

"I think the Second Lieutenant should smoke less." Mustang said abruptly.

"Sir?"

"The smoke appears to be blinding him." He explained, his attention still trained on the outer office. "I'm not sure what the Sergeant Major's excuse is however." He returned to his paperwork, well aware of the fate that would befall him if there were any left untouched at the end of the day.

The Lieutenant watched her commanding officer for a moment before flipping to a new page on her own desk, pen held at the ready.

"You're a fine one to talk Taisa." Riza Hawkeye muttered under her breath, looking up from her paperwork just long enough to glance at Edward, who had, despite being draped across a couch in a room full of people, and being nearly sat on more than once by his fellow soldiers, still managed to stare silently at a bullet hole just above the Colonel's desk in the inner office.

**End**


	3. Principles

**Principles**

Havoc could remember quite clearly, rather clearer than he would like actually, the last time First Lieutenant Hawkeye had caught him eavesdropping. Not only had he been so scared that not even a cigarette could coax his heart out of his throat, but he had had to sit through one of her lectures.

He had heard so many that he even had categories for them all now. This one had definitely fallen into the Principles category, along with lectures on why you don't whistle when a female coworker walks by, yes, even if she is a knockout, and why he shouldn't blackmail Fury into giving him his dessert everyday.

Last time he had been eavesdropping was when another Colonel had gone into speak to Mustang, one who didn't really know just who the man sitting in front of him was. Havoc grinned, he had escaped Hawkeye just in time to see the Colonel leave with a slightly singed uniform, and a rather shell shocked expression.

Even Hawkeye had found that amusing.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean she forgot to punish him. Havoc had spent the next month scrubbing toilets in his spare time with the promise of an entire year of the same if she ever caught him eavesdropping again.

Which was partially why he was so surprised when she dropped to her knees to join him when she realized it was Edward in the office with the Colonel this time.

Apparently not even Riza Hawkeye could resist a good bit of gossip.

**End**


	4. Memos

**Memos**

Colonel Mustang sighed. It was three thirty seven in the afternoon, according to the clock, and he had been going from washroom to washroom for the last three hours, replacing the stock of toilet paper.

He hadn't known First Lieutenants could give Colonels punishment.

Apparently there had been a memo.

He had the feeling that Hawkeye had made the entire thing up, but wasn't about to question it. Four years of working with her had made him quite wary, and rightfully so. Just two weeks ago the Fuhrer himself had sent him an official memo, asking why his repairs expense account emptied itself on a weekly basis.

Roy just hadn't had the heart to tell him that the seemingly innocent, intelligent, and polite First Lieutenant permanently assigned to his office (on his request) was slightly homicidal.

When she had given him his sentencing, she told him she expected a formal report on what he had done and why it was wrong before the end of the day.

Roy sighed again, at this rate, he wouldn't be done before the end of the year, let alone in another hour or so. Who knew headquarters had so many washrooms? If he ever found the architect, he would have him or her shot on the spot.

What exactly was so bad about kissing a subordinate that made it punishable by washroom duty?

And just because said subordinate was fifteen years younger than him really wasn't any reason to hold him at gunpoint…

**End**

**a/n:** sigh I wanted to post a longer one for today, but couldn't find anyone to beta for me, and I figured, the shorter it is, the less mistakes it can have, right? Of course, I forgot that it can still be crappy even if it only has 250 words. If anyone wants to be a beta for me, I would so love them for ever… On a later note, I did get it beta-ed! Thank you Lady Ava is eternally in her debt


	5. Desperation

**Desperation**

Second Lieutenant John Havoc was angry. And it wasn't just normal, every day, run-of-the-mill anger either. It was a frustrated, annoyed, _indignant_, anger. In his mind, there was a very good reason for it; to anyone else, he was grossly overreacting.

Second Lieutenant John Havoc was angry because his superior (only in rank mind you) officer, Roy Mustang, was humming as he sat behind his desk, signing without complaint everything First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye put in front of him (it was only slightly worrying when he tried to scrawl his name across the wooden surface of his desk, this _was_ Colonel Roy Mustang after all).

The reason Havoc was so enraged by the humming was rather straight forward. He just couldn't believe that the Colonel had the audacity to hum cheerfully under his breath even as he caused his subordinates such agony and distress (which wasn't any different from any other day; the humming was just the icing on top of the cake).

What made it even worse was that there wasn't any obvious reason for him to be so cheerful. It wasn't like it was his birthday, he wasn't being promoted, Hawkeye hadn't called in sick… The only good thing about today was that the Elric brothers (more importantly, _Fullmetal_) were away on a mission. But they had been away yesterday, and the day before, and every day for the past month as well, and Mustang hadn't been singing a jaunty little tune then.

Havoc gritted his teeth as the humming got steadily louder. If Lieutenant Hawkeye hadn't taken away his last pack of cigarettes, he would have been cramming one in between his lips ever as his eardrums were ruptured by a particularly tone deaf Colonel. He briefly considered jamming a pencil into either ear in an attempt to drown out the tune, but he discarded that idea rather quickly; it was just more pain than it was worth.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he made a mental note to have it checked; there was just no way it could be right, he had been here for _much_ longer than a mere three hours. Havoc sighed, according to that clock, he couldn't even escape under the guise of a lunch break for another hour, at least, and even that would be pushing it.

Havoc resigned himself to another seven hours of this hell, and tried to get down to work. The only thing that could make this day worse was not making it out alive because Hawkeye had decided that execution by firing squad was a suitable, if slightly lenient, punishment for late paperwork. Then again, it was entirely possible that the Colonel's off-key humming had killed her off hours ago.

Four very painful hours later, the humming got louder again. Actually, considering just how loud it had been moments ago, it was probably more accurate to say the Colonel was getting closer. Which meant one of two things. A, Mustang had to use the washroom, and was going to hunt Havoc down for not replacing the toilet paper, or B, he was finally leaving. Personally, Havoc was holding out for the second.

It wasn't until a door slammed shut and the humming got fainter again that Havoc realized this was his chance to find out just what the Flame Alchemist was so happy about. Preferably from a distance. Of course, he would require a little assistance, preferably in the form of a humane society on legs. Havoc grabbed his coat and headed for the door to the outer office.

"Oh Fury…"

Sergeant Major Cain Fury's head snapped up, eyes wide with terror. He knew that tone all too well. "Sir?" He replied nervously, pen poised a few inches above his desk, and what was presumably a pile of paperwork.

Havoc sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you Fury? My name is _Havoc_. _John Havoc_. Use it. But aside from that-" He paused just long enough to glance in the direction of the Colonel's office, the door, thankfully, closed. He didn't even want to think about how long he would be on washroom duty if Hawkeye heard what he was suggesting. "You and I are going to go for a little stroll. With the Taisa." Okay, so it wasn't the complete truth, but Fury was a smart kid, and besides, the Colonel would be in their sight at all times if things went well. And then he would know why Mustang had subjected his ears to eight hours of incessant humming. It was a wonder the man hadn't lost his voice around noon.

As Fury got to his feet, Havoc couldn't help but wonder what the punishment for maiming a superior officer was.

Havoc and Fury had followed Colonel Mustang all the way to the train station, in the rain no less. Havoc duly added the weather to the list of things his commanding officer couldn't be happy for. He had the feeling it would be much easier for him if he just stuck to listing the reasons the Colonel could be happy, where were few. Actually, they were nonexistent.

"What's he doing?" Fury hissed, shifting from his position behind a concrete pole so that he could see more clearly. In the fifteen minutes since they had arrived at the station, Mustang had moved once, and that was to give his seat to an old lady.

"If I knew that, would I be following him?!"

Fury cringed, shrinking away from the Second Lieutenant.

Havoc sighed, running a hand through his short blond hair. "Look, I'm sorry Fury. It's just that that humming has been getting on my nerves since eight o'clock this morning. There's only so much you can take before you start considering offering up your own life in return for a little peace and quiet, y'know?"

Nodding, but his body not relaxing in the slightest, Cain Fury glanced at the train station's clock. It was four forty-five, and they had left the office at five minutes to four, which meant he had actually survived fifty consecutive minutes with Havoc. Alone. That had to be a world record or something.

In the twenty minutes since they had realized just where the Colonel was headed, Fury and Havoc had come, or rather, _jumped_, to the conclusion that Roy was meeting someone arriving on one of the trains into town today. It wasn't exactly rocket science, but it was start.

The minutes ticked by.

One by one, Havoc and Fury, or rather, Havoc, as Fury appeared to have nodded off on his shoulder about ten minutes ago, and the Second Lieutenant made no move to wake him, eliminated train after train from the list of possibilities. It was five fifteen, and they had been here, hiding behind a pole, spying on their commanding officer, for almost an hour now.

Havoc considered the possibility that the Colonel knew they were following him, and had decided to mess with them just one more time before the day ended. He discarded it, as cruel as the bastard was, he was far too self centered to waste hours of his precious time sitting in a train station for hours on end just to annoy a few of his subordinates.

An announcement blared over the loud speakers; Havoc ignored it, his eyes trained on the Colonel, who had since regained a seat on a bench. When Mustang sat up a little straighter, ears perked to listen to the voice, Havoc wished he had paid it a little more attention. Especially when, as the announcement ended, Mustang glanced at the clock, got to his feet, and set his umbrella on the bench where he had been sitting just seconds ago.

"Who's he been waiting for that's so important he needed to be an hour early?" Havoc muttered, nudging Fury. "Wake up Fury, I think the train's almost here."

As a train came rolling into the station, Fury opened one bleary eye. "What time is it?" He asked groggily. "Can I go home yet?"

Havoc, tense with anticipation, rolled his eyes. "We're just about to get to the best part Fury, the train's here! It's about time." He added darkly, noting the time, five thirty on the dot.

The doors opened and Havoc edged forward for a better view, Fury leaning over his shoulder. He just wished there was a way they could get closer, he didn't want to miss this after an hour and thirty-five minutes of waiting, and people kept crossing in between the two soldiers and their superior officer.

The first wave of passengers came surging out, and Havoc almost lost sight of the Colonel. Almost.

"Roy!"

He heard the shout, and tried to trace it to its owner. Mustang apparently had no trouble pinpointing it, if the grin on his face was anything to judge by. Havoc wasn't sure if he had ever seen an expression even similar to that on the Colonel's face.

Havoc heard rather than saw Fury's jaw go slack. Glancing at the shorter man, he followed his eyes to the middle of the crowd, where someone with bright blond hair was moving in the Colonel's direction quite rapidly. Havoc shook his head. "Leaving work early to meet women. Tsk, tsk Tai-"

The words died in his mouth as the blond launched herself at the Colonel. And the Colonel caught her. Correction. Caught him.

Even as his lips met Mustang's with desperation clear to Havoc from fifty-odd yards away, there was no mistaking Edward Elric for anyone else.

**End**


	6. Promises

**Promises**

Edward Elric had been waiting just outside the train station for an hour now. It was, of course, raining, but not even that could make him join the surging crowds inside. The train he was waiting for was supposed to have arrived forty-five minutes ago, but had been delayed due to, you guessed it, in-climate weather.

So, he was sitting on the steps leading up to the station, just below the overhang. Unfortunately, it was also windy, so the rain was just being blown into his face. And he couldn't even leave because he had promised Al that he would meet him and Winry here.

Edward had yet to break a promise to his brother. He wasn't going to start now because of a little rain.

He sighed, resting his head on his knees, curling up as much as was possible. Winry was going to yell at him for exposing his automail to such conditions, and then lecture him on the dangers of rust. She wouldn't care that he had only done so so that he could welcome them to Central.

Even through the rain, and wind, and crowds, he could hear the footsteps coming up the steps towards him.

He lifted his head, glancing at the pro-offered hand, which, he noted with surprise, was bare.

Sighing, he took it, and was pulled to his feet.

When the hand tried to pull him closer, he resisted.

"I'm wet."

Roy sighed and gave up on trying to bring Ed to him. Instead he stepped forward to wrap one arm around the shivering alchemist, the other holding a blue umbrella over their heads. "You're also cold."

**End**

**a/n: **Okay. Lame, I know. But it was a very persistent plot bunny, and just wouldn't go away until I wrote it. Bear with me, it'll be better tomorrow, I promise.


	7. Taking Out the Trash

**Taking Out the Trash**

"Oh Taisa, I believe I have something here that may be of some interest to you." Havoc said lazily, leaning casually against the doorframe, a somewhat crumpled piece of paper in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

"You do, do you?" Colonel Mustang muttered, not looking up from his desk. The pile of paperwork in front of him wasn't getting any smaller, and he only had fifteen minutes before they were due. And a trip to the local hospital just wasn't a good way to start the week.

"Well, it _was_ in your trash." Havoc said, nodding at the surprisingly empty trashcan next to Mustang's desk.

Mustang finally looked up, staring at his subordinate with disbelief. "You went through my _trash_? How low have you sunk?"

Havoc shrugged off the insult, the hand holding the cigarette gesturing idly at Hawkeye, who was watching their exchange with calculated disinterest. "She ordered me to, as punishment for last week when I-"

Holding up a hand to stop the Second Lieutenant, Roy shuddered. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not to relive that moment. I've spent a large amount of my time since then trying to forget it, and I'm almost certain poor Fury is _still_ having nightmares."

"Hey! All I did was lick-"

This time it was Hawkeye who silenced him. With two bullets in the door frame. "Not another word Lieutenant." She warned, holstering her gun again. "The Taisa isn't the only one who doesn't want to remember it."

Roy extracted his nails from his palms carefully, sighing. It was a pity she'd missed him though.

Unfortunately, Havoc was not to be put off, not even by the possibility of loss of life. Instead he unfolded the paper he had managed to salvage from the Colonel's trashcan. "All I want to know, _sir_, is why you have a love letter from Edward in your trash?"

It was amazing really that he actually managed to duck behind the doorframe before flames began scorching the paint off the walls.

**End**


	8. Bloodlust

**Bloodlust**

The outer office door banged open.

Second Lieutenant Havoc and Sergeant Major Fury looked up from their desks. Warrant Officer Farman just kept working; the less involved in this he was, the better.

The sound of metal stamping against the ground every other step seemed painful until you realized that steel had no feeling. When Edward Elric stormed into a room, kind of like how he was now, you would think entire buildings were crashing down with him on alternating steps.

The aforementioned Alchemist clanked over to Havoc's desk, the expression on his face one no man should ever have to see; unless, of course, they had done what Havoc and Fury did, in that case all bets were off.

"_You_." In that one word, Ed was able to convey both the threat of imminent death and dismemberment, _and_ of prolonged suffering, which is no mean feat, not to mention the several levels of hell and a curse word or two.

Havoc replied with all the innocence he could muster. "Yes Boss?" His voice may have squeaked more than he would have necessarily liked, but can you really blame him? Most people would have wet their pants by now if they had the Fullmetal Alchemist looking at them with even half the intensity Havoc was currently the recipient of.

"Don't you 'yes Boss?' me." Ed snapped before spinning on his metal heel so that he could stare down Fury as well. Farman tried as hard as he could to make himself as small as possible. He could only pray it was working; he didn't envy his fellow soldiers one bit.

Fury wilted under the alchemist's glare, hands shaking noticeably, not to mention the ink splashing all over his desk and uniform. He _knew _he shouldn't have listened to Havoc when the Lieutenant had told him he had a plan; would he ever learn? Fury sighed, probably not, considering it was _Havoc_ who kept convincing him to go along with all sorts of crazy schemes, anyone else would have been out of luck.

As Ed's golden stare returned to him once again, Havoc found himself, for the first time in his life, wishing that Hawkeye would come out of the Colonel's office to see what was going on; it wasn't like Mustang was actually in there anyway, and this could very well be a matter of life and death, it the somewhat homicidal gleam in Fullmetal's eyes was anything more than an illusion.

"Which one of you," Ed growled, glaring at both Havoc and Fury in turn. His eyes were nothing more than narrow slits now and Havoc would swear on his life (which was looking rather like it was going to be abruptly ended any minute now), that they had ceased to be gold and were instead glowing red in a particularly demonic way. "Which one of you," Ed repeated, somehow managing to tower over them, despite his own somewhat negotiable height. "decided that it would be a good idea to inform Al that I'm sleeping with Mustang?"

You had to give the poor boy credit; he hadn't strangled either Havoc or Fury yet, which was quite the feat considering the rather impressive amount of bloodlust currently pulsing in his veins.

"Oh," Havoc remarked weakly. "So that's why he's so late."

Ed pounced.

All good things in time.

**End**


	9. Shivers

**Shivers**

Fury blinked. Once, twice, three times. A shiver ran down his spine.

Alright, that was probably from Havoc breathing on his neck. But still.

_Somehow_, (cough_Havoc_cough), he had found himself at an angle where he had _the_ perfect view into the Colonel's office, through the tiny window in his door. Perfect meaning he could see not only the desk, but the couches too, and therefore…

Fury grinned.

It was about damn time.

**End**

**a/n: **Yeah, yeah, pitifully short. What can I say? Oh, _right_. It'll be longer tomorrow?


	10. Surprise Visit

**Surprise Visit**

The Fuhrer was _not_ an easily shaken man; which was probably one of many good reasons he had made it up to the position he was in now. Of course, no man could be expected to take something quite like this standing up.

When he had first stepped into the outer office, he had been greeted by a young black haired woman, who had leapt to her feet from her position on the lap of a blond Second Lieutenant. At least, the Fuhrer had _thought_ she was a woman, now he wasn't so sure.

Most women he knew didn't have five o'clock shadows (especially not at three in the afternoon). Or such broad shoulders. And he was almost positive most women shaved their legs before wearing miniskirts.

Not to mention the obvious lack of breasts.

The Fuhrer raised an eyebrow, now certain that this soldier was in fact a _man_. Something occurring to him, he glanced at the Lieutenant, who had also snapped to attention. He pointedly ignored the quiet snickers that were coming from the men he had brought with him as he gave the blond an appraising look.

The collar of his uniform was unfolded, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his blue overcoat lay discarded on the couch. The Fuhrer wasn't _even_ going to get into the hair.

Sighing, he looked back at the Sergeant Major, who had turned a most interesting shade of red. "Young man," The Fuhrer began, his voice trailing off as he realized there really was nothing to say in a situation such as this (which he prayed would never _ever_ be repeated).

"I'm very sorry Sir. We, er, weren't expecting you?" The Fuhrer had to strain his ears something dreadful just to get the basic gist of what the man was saying, or rather, trying to say.

"Oh?" He sighed, his words failing him once again. He grasped at straws, trying to find something at least mildly intelligent. Needless today, he failed, and rather miserably too. "Couldn't you have, ah, I don't know, done _that_ somewhere else?" He asked, glancing around the room for options. "Like perhaps the walk-in-closet?"

This time it was the Lieutenant who replied, and afterwards the Fuhrer found himself wishing he had stayed in Central. "No sir, the Taisa and Fullmetal are in there sir, on account of First Lieutenant Hawkeye doing paperwork in his office sir."

Even as he said it, the blond appeared to realize what a bad idea opening his mouth had been. This was evident as all the blood drained out of his face and he swayed on his feet. The Fuhrer could _hear_ his own jaw dropping.

He could also hear a few thuds, as veteran soldiers, ones he entrusted with his _life_ for goodness sake's, keeled over at the mention of Colonel Mustang and his _male_ subordinate in a closest, _together_.

The Fuhrer sighed. Yes, he really wished he had just stayed in Central; serial killers had nothing on this.

**End**

**a/n: **Inspired by Spades 44's Insanity drabble. Well, the miniskirt and closet at least :)


	11. Left in the Dark

**Left in the Dark**

Ed blinked. Wasn't it a bit dark in here for the middle of the day? He shrugged, and shut the door to the outer office behind him. It didn't matter, how the Colonel chose to light his office didn't really have anything to do with him.

He gave this theory a little more thought when he ran into Hawkeye's desk in the gloom.

Swearing, he put a hand to his hip. That was _definitely_ going to bruise. It suddenly occurred to him that there might be a very good reason the room was dark. Such as the Colonel was out. Obviously, if he was in the room, he would be laughing up a storm from Ed's little rendezvous with the desk.

Ed scowled. The stupid Colonel made him write reports, and then wasn't even there for him to hand them in? Ha, see if he ever wrote another paper for Mustang again.

Though, they _were_ good excuses for seeing him…

Ed shook vigorously, just barely resisting the urge to bash his head against the wall repeatedly. He could only imagine trying to explain that one to Hawkeye.

He did know exactly how that conversation would end though… With him twitching on the spot and bullet holes in the walls.

Why exactly had no one ever signed her up for an anger management course?

Ed sighed, he really was off his game today; to try and get Hawkeye to attend anger management courses was equal to suicide. Hmm, maybe there was something in the water at Central-? That would certainly explain the weird feeling in his chest ever since they had boarded the train.

It was certainly a better explanation than the one Al had come up with.

Rolling his eyes, Ed snorted. Imagine, _him_, in love with _Mustang_.

It _had_ to be something in the water; otherwise… He gulped. Otherwise, Ed had the feeling he was very, _very_ screwed.

**End**


	12. We All Fall Down

**We All Fall Down**

When Ed opened the door to the outer office, he gave the other five in the room his usual greeting. His usual greeting consisting of him not saying a thing and just storming over to the Colonel's office, report in hand, scowl already in place.

This time however, he got a slightly different response back.

He had just closed his hand over the doorknob, and was about to throw this door open as well, when he was stopped by a few, rather hesitant words.

"Um… Ed?"

He froze, and without taking his hand of the doorknob, he turned slightly so that he could see First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye easily. It suddenly occurred to him that this was _not_ where her desk usually was.

If he had been slightly less confused by this first turn of events, he might have noticed her hand was shaking.

"What's going on Lieutenant?" Ed asked, surveying the room to see what else was out of place. Nothing, if you didn't count Havoc, Fury, Farman, and Breda not working away at whatever it was they did on a daily basis. Though, thinking back, Ed couldn't remember the last time he had seen them actually hard at work. Still, he had a feeling that the staring wasn't normal.

Standing up and pushing her own chair under the desk, she offered one to Ed with a small wave of her hand (which was still shaking rather violently), in the general direction of the chair on the other side of her desk. "You might want to sit down."

Now extremely wary of what was happening, Ed refused. Well, not so much refused as got very, _very_ distracted. He noticed, with growing horror, that the light in Mustang's office was out; he had the feeling that this was not because he was late coming into work. "Where's, where's, _where is he_?" He demanded, once again facing Hawkeye.

It was just about now that he noticed the ink splatters on her uniform, and the tear tracks on her face. He felt his knees start to shake; the only thing keeping him on his feet by now was his death grip on the doorknob.

"We, we told them they needed to find you. Needed to bring you home. But, but, they said you could be told when you returned. Said you were just a, a _subordinate_. They… They wouldn't listen to me. I _tried_ to tell them. They just wouldn't _listen_." Hawkeye stumbled over her words, making Ed's anxiety greater still. Hawkeye never lost her composure, _ever_; she just blew things to pieces.

He turned to the others, looking for answers. Answers better than the ones he had a feeling Hawkeye was about to give him.

He didn't find any.

"I'm so sorry Ed."

And all it took was four little words for the whole world to come crashing down.

**End**

**a/n:** did I just… write that? -blinks- I get the feeling I just killed Roy. But I can't be sure. Hasn't quite sunk in yet. -blinks- Huh.


	13. Unusual Repercussions

**Unusual Repercussions**

Fury could still remember the first time he had walked in on the Fullmetal Alchemist and the Colonel kissing in his office. There was no way he could forget, even if he wanted to. Besides, it really hadn't been all that long ago.

Somehow, both Havoc and himself had been able to escape from that experience with minimal damages, except for that tiny little thing not even worth mentioning… Oh alright, it wasn't _that_ tiny, not really. They had come out of it physically untouched, and thank god for that, but they did have the tendency to throw themselves underneath and/or behind something solid every time a door slammed, or a chair scrapped against the floor in a particularly loud way.

That was nothing however, compared to what had happened to Ed and Mustang.

Actually…

Fury glanced at his dog calendar, which was sitting right next to his inkwell. It had only been three weeks since the "incident", as they now called it.

He grinned.

The Colonel was probably still on washroom duty.

**End**

**a/n:** -sigh- Somewhat humorous I hope, to make up for killing Roy in #12… Heh. Oops?


	14. Stupid

**Stupid**

Hawkeye was getting _really_ tired of this.

Every time she wanted and/or needed to go into Mustang's office, she had to be careful to pause for a few seconds before actually opening the door all the way. It wasn't that she thought what was going on in there was _wrong_, per say, she just really didn't want to have the conversation that would be her duty to start if she were to walk in on them.

So, every time she went into the office when Edward was in town, she had to pretend not to see the rather guilty expressions on both of their faces, and ignore the ruffled hair and the slightly askew uniforms.

It _was_ kind of insulting though.

Just how stupid did they think she was?

**End**

**a/n:** I'm sorry the last two have been so short! It's not my fault, really! Okay. That's a lie. Heh. Longer tomorrow?


	15. Temper Temper

**Temper Temper**

Roy shrank back against the door frame, trying to pretend he wasn't scared out of his mind.

It wasn't working.

You wouldn't expect the Flame Alchemist to afraid of much, if of anything at all; after all there aren't many things that cannot be reduced to piles of ashes or puddles of goo when enough heat is applied to them.

Of course, you would only expect that until you had been faced down by Alphonse Elric in a temper.

A temper such as the one Mustang was currently the cause of.

Roy didn't even want to know where the boy had learned that look. He shivered, Al had been a much nicer boy when he had been a suit of armor, back when he didn't have expressions, on account of his face being a solid metal helmet. Of course, back then, he would have been able to break all of Roy's bones with one hand, without even trying. He hoped with all his heart the boy would not be able to do so now.

The look in his eyes wasn't very reassuring.

"Umm, uh… Can I help you with something Al?"

The Elric boy narrowed his eyes. "That depends."

Roy gulped, tightening his grip on the doorframe in a vain attempt to stop his hands from shaking. "On what?"

"On whether or not you're willing to die."

In the following moment of panic, Roy had only one thought.

Havoc was going down.

**End**

**a/n:** Hee hee. Roy's gonna be beaten to a pulp by a sixteen-year-old… Hint hint.


	16. Misunderstandings

**Misunderstandings**

It wasn't often that Colonel Roy Mustang went to lunch in the Mess Hall. It was just his luck that the only day this week he did that there were tens of hundreds of visiting soldiers also eating there.

Alright. He was exaggerating.

Still.

Let's just put it this way; there were a hell of a lot more soldiers in the Mess Hall than he particularly cared for.

It only made matters worse when one such soldier decided that he really must sit at his table. And he couldn't even tell the man to go away, as he was a Brigadier General.

All those stripes and stars were mocking him. He knew it.

Unfortunately, not even he was fast enough to grab his wallet off the table and shove it back into one of his many pockets before the man noticed the photo it was open to.

He nodded at the glossy picture with a knowing smile. "That your girlfriend?"

Roy blanched. And then smirked.

Ed was going to love that. Well, love as in hunt down the Brigadier General and rip all his limbs off. Slowly.

"You could say that."

**End**

**a/n:** Not the greatest, I know. Sorry? It was fun to write though.


	17. Special Someone

**Special Someone**

Many times over the years, Maes Hughes had impressed on his best friend the importance of finding that one person he could pour all of his love and attention into.

In time, it became a ritual of theirs; Maes would call daily, regardless of where in the world they were, or what they were doing. He would then proceed to tell Roy all about Gracia, and later, Elysia as well. And, just when he sensed Roy was about to hang up in exasperation, he would stop mid rant and encourage Roy to find someone of his own.

And then Roy would really hang up.

Hughes had always told him that when he found his special someone, everything would be right in the world, that everything would suddenly be so much simpler, that nothing could ever go wrong again.

When he said these things though, he probably hadn't anticipated Roy falling in love with a fellow Alchemist, a fellow _soldier_. He probably hadn't imagined that the country could be thrown back into war so easily. He probably hadn't expected _anything_ quite like this.

Hughes had always told him that when he found his special someone, there would be nothing he wouldn't do for them.

Roy stroked Ed's blood streaked hair, either not noticing or not caring when the tears began to fall.

Hughes had never said how much it would hurt when there was nothing he, or anyone, could do for them anymore.

**End**

**a/n:** I did it again. Well, it wasn't Roy this time actually. But still. –sigh- I can't believe I did that.


	18. Home

**Home**

It was raining.

Still.

Roy groaned; he knew he didn't believe in God, but someone had to be causing this with the lone purpose of annoying him. That, or he was just having a rather long streak of bad luck.

When he heard the thump that belonged solely to a stack of papers being dropped on a wooden surface, he knew it was the second.

With a slightly pained expression, he turned in his chair so that he was facing his desk. As predicted, a large stack of paperwork had almost completely taken over. Hawkeye was standing in front of the desk with a pleased look on her face.

"Those are the last ones for today Taisa." She said, nodding at the pile. "Sign those, and then we can get a head start on tomorrow."

Roy wondered briefly about his subordinate's sanity; she was all too excited about paperwork on a whole, but today she was actually looking forward to doing _more_. It was more than just slightly worrying.

With a sigh, he grabbed the first sheet off the top, scanning the document quickly before scrawling his signature on the bottom. Same with the second paper, and the third, and the fourth…

This was painful.

"HAVOC! What the hell are you doing!"

And that was more painful.

It was also Fury's voice. And Fury didn't usually yell at people. Which meant one of four things. One, Havoc had licked him again. Two, Havoc had done something equally annoying/strange. Three, the Sergeant Major had been suffering from strep throat ever since he started working in this office, and had finally recovered. Or four, he had finally come to his senses and realized what everyone else already knew; you just _had_ to yell at Havoc, or he'd never stop.

"Down boy!"

Roy winced, he got the feeling he didn't want to know what the Second Lieutenant had done this time. Or why Fury was treating him like a dog. Though, Fury did seem to keep a lot of animals, could just have been a slip up.

That, or Havoc licked him again.

Roy sighed again. "Lieutenant, go see what the Second Lieutenant did this time. And if he licked the Sergeant Major again, lock him in the closet for me, will you?"

Hawkeye saluted and turned on her heel. Mustang momentarily considered calling her back when he noticed the hand inching towards her sidearm but realized that Havoc probably deserved whatever Hawkeye dished out.

He turned his chair towards the window again, resting one elbow on the ledge so that he could rest his head on his hand.

It was still raining.

And this day wasn't getting any better.

A door slammed somewhere in the distance.

Someone screamed.

From his spot at the window, Mustang could see the blue light reflecting in the courtyard from a hallway not far from his office.

Roy grinned.

It looked like the day was going to get better after all.

Edward was home.

**End**

**a/n:** -shudder- I don't like it. It bothers me. No, I don't know why. –sigh- The plot bunnies are all angsty now. And I refuse to write more than one sad one in a row, despite my usual affinity for such things. Why? Again, no idea. I think I just have issues. It should be better tomorrow, but I know better than to make promises. See? I'm learning .


	19. Nowhere But Here

**Nowhere But Here**

"Fullmetal. Fullmetal. Fullmetal." Roy sighed. It was going to be one of those days again, he just knew it. "_Fullmetal_!"

Edward looked up, giving Mustang a dirty look. "What was that for? You didn't have to shout."

It took more willpower than Roy would care to admit to keep from snapping his fingers.

"Why are you still here?"

Ed shrugged. "Nowhere else to go really. Al went back to Rizenbul to see Winry and Aunt Pinako for the holiday, and I stayed here, so it's just an empty dorm room. I figured I might as well get something done."

"Oh?" Roy asked, glancing at the blank paper in front of the teenager. "What exactly are you trying to get done?"

"None of your business." Ed snapped, glaring at him with golden eyes.

Roy raised an eyebrow. Was that a blush?

"Fury, I need to-"

Both Ed and Roy whipped their heads around to stare at Havoc, who had just come out of his office. He had trailed off mid sentence and was now watching them with interest.

"Don't mind me," He said when he realized they were waiting for him to say something. "Continue whatever it was you were doing." And then he shut his door again.

He appeared to have forgotten that his door had a window, albeit one with frosted glass, and that they could see his shadow. And how it was pressing its ear against the glass.

Roy rolled his eyes.

"Why didn't you go home with Al?" he asked finally, breaking the somewhat awkward silence that had fallen. Ed looked up from his still blank paper, apparently trying to decide if Mustang was being snide or not.

"Rizenbul isn't home." Ed told him, weighing his words carefully before he actually opened his mouth. This entire process had to be a first for the boy, who usually spoke without thinking and didn't care who was offended by what came out of his mouth.

Roy cocked his head to the side slightly, his confusion made evident by this. "Then where is?"

Ed considered this for a moment, setting aside his pen. He propped his elbows on the borrowed desk and rested his head on his hands. He looked up at Roy, the barest hint of a smile on his face when he caught the Colonel's eye. "Right here I guess."

They both missed the triumphant shouts that can only be associated with someone who has just won a rather large sum of money that came from Havoc's office in the silence that followed.

**End**

**a/n:** I even like this corny thing better than yesterday's. –sigh- You really have to wonder sometimes. So, did you guys like it? Or should I go back to the humor attempts and steer clear of the sappy fluff that has tainted these last few? Either way, I fear for my IQ.


	20. Reasons

**Reasons**

Havoc wondered why he still worked for Colonel Mustang.

It wasn't like he had made a promise like Hughes had.

To tell the truth, he didn't even like the man half the time.

Which brought him back to the original problem.

Why?

He petted Fury absentmindedly on the head with one hand.

Oh.

Right.

**End**

**a/n:** O.o Don't know where that came from. There wasn't even any Roy/Ed goodness to be found. Hmm, this is worrying. –shrugs- Oh well. At least it isn't angsty. Though the fluff/sap content is iffy…


	21. Windfall

**Windfall**

"Lieutenant."

"Taisa."

"Where did you get that money?"

"Office pool."

"Do I want to know what the bet was?"

Havoc considered this.

"No."

Roy narrowed his eyes.

"Why not?"

Havoc paused.

"Because I'm not ready to die sir."

Of course, this probably wasn't the wisest thing he could have done in this situation; he could have lied, made something up, or run.

All of which would have ended in far less damage to both Havoc and the surrounding military property.

Havoc gulped.

Those fingers were a hell of a lot scary than fingers had any right to be.

**End**

**a/n:** This is the companion of Nowhere But Here in case you didn't pick up on that. If you actually needed me to tell you that… -shrugs- Lets just say that's bad. Anyway, I don't like this. But you already knew that didn't you? Of course you did. I say it every day. Well… Almost.


	22. Toasty

**Toasty**

Havoc sniffed the air.

Something was burning.

And no, it wasn't him. Hawkeye and Fury had ganged up on him that morning, and had confiscated every single cigarette he had on his person. Which would not have been bad in itself, except that they also raided his office, and the closet, and the safe, and took all the cushions off the couch…

You get the picture.

He sniffed again.

Something was definitely burning, and he knew for sure that they didn't have a fireplace in any of the offices.

Of course, it was entirely possible Ed and Mustang had gotten into another of their squabbles over Fullmetal's reports, and the Colonel had decided he had no choice but to burn the younger alchemist to a crisp.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Havoc sighed.

The smell of smoke was all too distracting. Not to mention enticing.

Quickly, Havoc swiped a hand across his mouth, just to make sure he wasn't drooling again. Damn had that been embarrassing...

He shook his head and tried to get back to work. Needless to say, he failed.

Havoc's nose twitched.

He glanced up, considering his options. He twitched again. Alright, so he didn't have any options. Sighing, he put down his pen, pushed his chair away from his desk (only wincing slightly when it scrapped against the floor), and got to his feet.

Carefully, ready to dart back to his seat should Hawkeye burst into the room, okay, so she didn't burst into rooms, but still, anyway, carefully, Havoc navigated the way around his desk, inching along as slowly as he could while still actually moving forward.

He nearly chickened out, Hawkeye was mad enough at him as it was for leaving burn marks on the couches. And on the lamp. And in the closet. Moving along…

Havoc opened the door, sticking his head out hesitantly. His eyes darted back and forth, making sure the way was clear.

He breathed a sigh of relief; there was no one in the outer office.

Taking one last glance around, Havoc bolted from his doorway, following the smell of smoke, a rather dopey grin working its way onto his face.

He ended up directly outside the Colonel's office.

Big surprise there.

It took him a moment or two to work up the courage to actually open the door. If it _was _Fullmetal who was getting all nice and toasty right about now, he really didn't want to join him.

Havoc's jaw dropped.

One of the blue couches had been pushed back against the wall; the other had been turned so that it was in front of the door.

This was the one the two alchemists were, well, for lack of a better word, snuggling on.

And in the center of the room was a rather large pile of papers, most likely the same ones Hawkeye had given Mustang that morning to sign, crackling away merrily, orange flames spreading rapidly.

Havoc blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

Well, Ed _was _getting toasty.

Just not quite in the way he had pictured it.

**End**

**a/n:** Well, that was interesting. –blinks- At least I think interesting is the right word… Let's put it this way, no one died. I'm thinking that's a good thing?


	23. LoveHate

**Love/Hate**

Ed didn't like rain much.

He figured he was perfectly justified in this emotion, considering he _was_ made up at least partially from metal.

And metal rusts.

He shuddered, last time he had gone to see Winry with rust related problems, she had thrown _another _wrench at him. Thankfully, he had been able to deflect it with his metal arm, but had then been scolded for denting it. There was just no reasoning with the girl really.

He sighed. If he hadn't known better, he would say it was raining even harder than it had been just moments ago, but for that to be possible, the windows would have to start shattering on account of the raindrops having turned into lead.

Alright, maybe he was being a little unfair.

After all, he wasn't the only one who was less than fond of the rain.

Ed snuggled closer to the man sitting next to him.

At times like this he might even go so far as to say he _liked_ the rain.

Not much else kept the Flame Alchemist home all day.

**End**

**a/n: **Hmm… Sappy? I think so. Oh well. What can you do?


	24. Relocations

**Relocations**

When Winry Rockbell had gone to the Elric brothers' old dorm, she hadn't thought much of being redirected to a new room; she knew that it happened occasionally, what with new recruits and all. She didn't even think it all that odd when the room's new occupant had made reference only to Al when he told her where to look now; people tended to remember Alphonse, on account of him once being a suit of armor.

Instead, she thanked the solider for his help and followed his directions to the new room.

You would think she might have started to have suspicions when a sign told her she had entered the single dorms.

She kept walking, humming a tune under her breath.

Apparently not.

Reaching a door with the number the man had given her on it, Winry knocked softly; just in case anyone was sleeping any where in the vicinity.

So sweet for a girl who assaulted people with wrenches on a regular basis.

After only a short pause, Alphonse Elric opened the door a crack, looking rather harried. His half closed eyes registering who it was, he opened the door the rest of the way, revealing baby blue pajamas and tousled blond hair.

Scrubbing at his eyes furiously, he made an attempt to look half awake.

It didn't work.

Shaking her head, Winry stepped past him into the room. Honestly, these boys couldn't be relied on to _blink_ without someone nagging at them at every turn in the road. It was just as well that she had decided to drop in for a while then.

Glancing around the room, noting the pile of books on the only table and the apparent lack of a second bed, she turned back to Al.

"What, do they make Ed sleep on the floor?" She asked, prepared not to be too surprised if that was in fact that case. Knowing Ed he probably wouldn't complain if it was, considering how little sleep he got.

Al went beet red, and started staring at his feet.

"What? What!" Winry demanded, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the young alchemist.

"Uh, Ed doesn't, er, live here anymore." Al replied quietly, his voice not much more than a strained whisper. He still hadn't looked up from his feet and his face was getting redder by the second.

"_Oh_?" She asked. "Don't tell me they put you in separate rooms!"

"Er, not exactly." Al glanced up at her, his face a color of red that should be reserved only for particularly angry tomatoes.

Winry was getting tired of this rather quickly. "Then what?" She snapped, quite prepared to hurt whoever had separated the two. Al would survive on his own, but Ed… She shuddered. He would probably kill himself as well as half the city without someone to look after him, and that someone was Al, despite him being the younger brother.

Al sighed, and imagined causing unprecedented pain to his brother for putting him in this situation. He went through enough anguish without having this added on top, what with the snide remarks he had to deal with in the Mess Hall. This calmed him down a fair bit, and the red in his face even subsided.

His composure regained, he wondered what the best way to go about this was, preferably a way that wouldn't leave him with wrench shaped bruises the following day.

Winry was tapping her foot impatiently, giving Al a look that could have fried an egg.

He gulped. Might as well get it over with then.

"Well, you see… He, uh,"

"Spit it out Al."

"Fine! He moved in with the Taisa! Now please don't kill me!" Al was quite used to Winry's temper after so many years, but that didn't mean he was any less terrified of it. And that expression was not one he ever wanted to see again.

Unless of course it was directed at Ed of course.

He deserved it after _this_.

**End**

**a/n:** I guess I like it. Maybe? Kind of? Oh well. Winry may stick around for a little bit, while I play with all the different ways she could find out about Ed's little fraternization. Who knows, it could be fun!


	25. Rage

**Rage**

Havoc was sitting at his desk, not working, when the door was broken off its hinges. He raised an eyebrow; that Rockbell girl had a lot of rage for someone so young.

He wracked his brain for anything that might have offended her as of late.

Nothing.

A wrench buried itself in the Colonel's door.

"Winry, I don't _mind_ living by myself. _Really_."

Oh, wait. Oops.

There was that.

That just might have done it.

**End**

**a/n:** Alright. So this one's a continuation of the last one. The next one will draw on different circumstances. Like Havoc and/or Fury trying to stop her from barging into the Colonel's office. Oh the possibilities.


	26. Nightmares

**Nightmares**

It was a night darker than he was used to.

He stumbles down the hallway, feeling his way along with his hands. This place, it's unfamiliar. He knows he's been here before, he just doesn't know where here is.

He passes a window, but there is no light shining through it. Not even the moon is out tonight.

He pauses a moment, and backtracks a few feet, so that he is standing before the glass. Glancing out across the darkened city, he sighs.

He remembers where he is now, and wishes he didn't.

Because along with that knowledge came the knowledge of how he had gotten there, and the knowledge why he was there.

Here, so far away from the nightmare he left, they continue on, as though nothing has changed, as though everything will ever change.

He looks out on the city again, one hand shaking ever so slightly, the other completely motionless.

He bites his lip, but knows better than to let go; knows better than to let emotion take a hold of him. It had been a hard lesson, but one he had learned well.

The city is silent, void of motion and light.

It seems somehow fitting that there would be a blackout on a night such this, as though the entire city had been put on hold to mourn for one man.

Even though he knows this is not the case, even though he knows most of them will never even hear the stories of what has happened, he would like to imagine that it was true.

Because as soon as he admits to himself that it isn't, he has lost control.

A sound, someone slamming a door, people running. He hears them; he knows what it is they are yelling. But he cannot bring himself to care.

He has fallen now; into the well of memories he has been fighting to keep buried.

He knows they will always be there, lurking just out of his reach, waiting to pounce.

The sounds fade, the city is silent again.

He grits his teeth, trying, and failing, to fight back the screams that threaten his self-control. He is seeing it, over and over again. He cannot fight it off this time.

Vaguely, he remembers what he had been told, what he had made himself believe.

The nightmares cannot become reality.

This is why, even as the sounds play themselves over, louder and louder still, and as the light blinds him, and he feels a scream break free of his throat, the city is silent.

**End**

**a/n:** Well. Not sure where _that_ came from. –blinks– I know, I know, I promised light fluffy fun. I'll do that now, really. I swear. Though, I've probably scared most of you off with that. It doesn't even make sense to me to tell you the truth –sigh–. Oh, and if you're wondering who I'm talking about, I left a hint or two as to who the narrative is directly about, and you can guess who the other person is once you know that if you have anything more than a block of concrete for a head.


	27. Backfired

**Backfired**

When Cain Fury arrived home after grocery shopping that day, he found his house to be nothing more than a pile of ashes.

If he had been anyone else, his reaction surely would have been one of pure horror. As it was he merely put one hand to his head and shook it slowly, sighing softly as he did so.

Looking at the smoldering remains of his home, something occurred to him.

Shit.

This was bad.

Very bad.

It could be bad in one of two ways. One, Colonel Mustang, it could _only _be him, had destroyed the house from the inside out and had seen things inside that belonged to more than one person, not to mention the photographs that were scattered across every solid surface in what had once been a building. Or two, and Fury wasn't sure which was worse, the Colonel would realize all this tomorrow, when Fury showed up wearing exactly what he was now (most certainly not anything regulation, or even close for that matter), and tried to explain to Hawkeye why this was.

Either way, tomorrow was not going to be pleasant.

Damn Havoc and his schemes.

This one had most definitely backfired.

**End**

**a/n:** That was fun. I needed something light after yesterday… -shivers- Anyway, I will get back to Winry soon. Just not today .


	28. Entertainment

**Entertainment**

"You know I'm not going to get _any_ work done with you sitting there."

"So?"

Roy Mustang sighed. "If I want to live through to the weekend, I have to finish all this before lunch. Which," He paused to glance at the clock. "Starts in half an hour."

The blond sitting on his desk shrugged. "You aren't going to finish anyway, might as well get _something_ done."

"I'm sitting in my office at eleven thirty am on a Wednesday afternoon Fullmetal; there isn't much else to do besides paperwork."

Edward rolled his eyes and reached out and grabbed the Colonel's collar with one hand, dragging the unresisting alchemist towards him. Leaning down himself to press their lips together, Ed closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he was pushing Mustang away with one hand, pulling himself back upright with the other, his eyes snapping open again. Moving at a speed not previously considered possible for the average human (there was _nothing_ average about Edward Elric), he somehow managed to cross his arms and get a menacing scowl on his face before Hawkeye walked in, closely followed by another soldier, complete with a Colonel's bars on his shoulders.

Hawkeye gave them a faintly disapproving look when she noticed their proximity before announcing the other man. "Taisa Thomas Carter here for your meeting sir."

The fake scowl on Ed's face quickly turned into a real one when he realized this meant he would have to leave. Jumping down from the desk, and ignoring Roy's smirk at the fact that he actually had to _jump_, Ed gave him a mock salute. "You could have _warned_ me." He muttered under his breath, quietly enough that only Roy could hear him.

"Yes, but isn't it more fun this way?" He said back, getting to his feet as well. Hawkeye, being sharp as she was, caught this, and gave Roy a rather well deserved glare.

To his credit he barely even twitched when Ed stomped on his left foot on his way by.

Colonel Carter thanked Hawkeye as she and Ed left the room, the look on her face promising probably uncalled for amounts of pain for the young alchemist.

Even as the blast proof, fire proof, and, most importantly, bullet proof, door closed behind them Roy could hear Ed's pleading explanations, done in the rather apologetic tone people always seemed to acquire when attempting to placate the First Lieutenant.

When the following screams and gun shots resounded through the room, Mustang had to fight to keep the grin off of his face.

**End**


	29. Lies

**Lies**

The time for the yearly fitness reports had come again.

None of them enjoyed the process, considering Colonel Mustang always found something wrong with everyone, and had no qualms about writing these things down, no matter how small, insignificant, or unrelated they may be. The only one immune to these jabs was Hawkeye, and only because Mustang was afraid of the First Lieutenant, even if he would rather dance naked on top of a table in the Mess Hall than admit it.

Fury thought this was rather unfair. Just because Hawkeye had no self control, and felt justified in shooting off her sidearm at any given moment didn't mean she should get off easy.

He could still remember the time the Colonel had given Breda demerit points for being scared of dogs. As amusing as it had been at the time, they had all had to endure Mustang's "treatment process", which had mainly consisted of him blackmailing Havoc and Fury into putting on dog masks and jumping out from behind doors, or underneath desks, or over bathroom stalls in an attempt to cure Breda.

It hadn't worked.

And Fury _still_ wanted to know where Mustang had gotten that picture from.

Anyway, they were all gathered in his office, awaiting their turn to be demoralized and insulted. The only one not present was Edward Elric, who had the week off to visit his brother in Rizenbul. It was times like these that made Fury wish he had stayed in touch with his own family. It was also times like these that he forgot that there had been a very good reason for severing all ties with them.

Mustang, upon finishing his now annual rant on Breda's dog phobia, moved onto the next folder. Opening it, he held it up so that they could all see the photo on the inside. Fury heaved a sigh of relief, it wasn't him.

It was Ed, and he had by far the thickest folder of the lot of them, mostly consisting of damage reports, and official complaints from cities he had visited in the past.

"Edward Elric, age seventeen, a State Alchemist, the only one to successfully complete a human transmutation, currently on a week's leave." He read out the basic information already in the folder before ripping another sheet of paper off of the pad by his elbow. "Personality traits? Destructive, violent, disrespectful, and immature." Mustang recited aloud as he jotted them down. "Other limiting qualities… Hmm."

They all sat there silently, like the good little doggies they were, waiting for him to continue.

"Terrible temper, no restraint, can't sing or paint, can't write a report, replace a toilet paper roll, sweep a floor, or even empty a trash can without blowing something up. And, last but not least…"

Here it comes, Fury thought, rolling his eyes. Beside him, Havoc shifted slightly in his seat, moving so that he was even further away from the Colonel.

"Short. Extremely short. Chibi-short even. I don't think he's grown an inch since joining this office."

It was a damn good thing for the Colonel that Ed was on vacation.

Mustang sighed. "His only redeeming quality is his skill with alchemy. Why do I keep him around?"

Fury bit his tongue, and, glancing around the room, saw the others fighting back wisecracks as well. However bad Ed's temper was, it was nothing compared to the Flame Alchemist's, as they all knew well. Not even Hawkeye dared to comment.

Sighing again, Mustang slipped his paper with the notes on it into the folder and replaced it to the top of the pile, taking down the next file as he did so.

"Cain Fury, rank of Sergeant Major."

Fury just grinned.

The others were staring at him now, wondering just what on earth was wrong with him. They all knew he was, well, sensitive wasn't quite a strong enough word. Every year, he took the Colonel's insults to heart, and spent the following week moping about, leaving even Havoc unable to cheer him up.

Fury wondered if anyone but him had noticed Mustang slide the photograph out of Fullmetal's folder and into his pocket.

This year he had finally realized what a good liar the Colonel was.

**End**

**a/n:** Er… That was kinda strange. It doesn't exactly flow wonderfully, but I suppose it could be worse. Maybe. Kinda. Possibly. –sigh- Oh well.


	30. Great Balls of Fire

**Great Balls of Fire**

Ed blinked. Was it just him or were things decidedly pinker here than they had been yesterday? He shrugged it off as another one of Mustang's quirks, conveniently forgetting that the Colonel did not in fact control the entire building. Opening the door to the outer office, he was greeted by more of the same, and then some.

He raised an eyebrow; someone had gone a little streamer happy.

Understatement of the year, right there.

He could barely get through the doorway there were so many strands of pink, red, and white crisscrossing across the room. Briefly considering transmuting them all to make a path to Mustang's office, Ed instead began forcing his way in.

Grinning at the satisfying noise the streamers made when ripped, Ed didn't notice Havoc entering the room behind him, lighter in hand as he lit a cigarette, until too late.

Who says Roy was the only one good with fire?

Later, a singed Edward Elric was sitting in Colonel Mustang's office with a rather disgruntled look on his face. For the first time, he was actually wearing a uniform, on account of his clothes being reduced to tatters from the fireball. Roy hadn't had any that would even come close to fitting him, so he had had to borrow one from Fury, who was more his height.

He wasn't _even_ going to ask about the miniskirt, and Roy could stop sniggering into his neck any time now thank you very much.

**End**

**a/n:** Well I'm amused and that's all that matters! My own, very special, valentine's day edition, Roy/Ed and Havoc/Fury drabble. Aren't you all so proud of me? –grins-


	31. Winning

**Winning**

Fury had never considered himself a betting man. He had never learned to play poker, rummy, or blackjack. He hadn't ever been tempted to go to a casino, or to a horse race (well, not to _bet_ anyway). And he had always been careful to stay out of office pools.

Until now that is.

And as he swept all of his newly acquired money into a pile, he suddenly understood why people did this on a regular basis.

There was a certain thrill involved when it hit you that _you_ had been right, and now _you_ had bragging rights over the others (something that really didn't happen all that much).

He was excited enough that he had actually managed to tune out Hawkeye yelling at Mustang and Edward (who were the subjects of that same bet), in the next room.

Which also meant that he didn't notice that it stopped abruptly when Havoc stepped across the threshold of the room to congratulate him.

Fury wasn't the only one out to make some money today.

**End**


	32. Unfortunate

**Unfortunate**

Soldiers stationed at Central often felt that they had been dealt a rough hand. Sure, Central had beautiful weather most of the time, but it was easy to forget the rain in the east and the snow in the north when lunch time rolled around.

See, lunch time was when most everyone in the building was in the same room, the Mess Hall, at the same time, noon. Which meant the soldiers had to deal with Colonel Mustang's men, and occasionally, Mustang himself. And that lead to, ah, interesting experiences.

Like the time when one of Mustang's Second Lieutenants had decided it would be prudent to lick fellow male, Sergeant Major Fury (they only knew his name because when he had elbowed the lieutenant in the stomach he had replied with a rather loud proclamation of "Ow! Fury!" which was quickly followed by another elbow in the gut).

Of course, as scarring as that had been, it was nothing compared to the time the Colonel had spent the entire lunch with a blond in plain clothes in his lap (it had yet to be determined whether said blond was male or female). Needless to say, Mustang's tray had gone back untouched.

They weren't even willing to _think_ about the Lieutenant Colonel who seemed to think that everyone lived to hear about his daughter's latest conquests.

And the Fuhrer wondered why he got so many letters requesting the immediate transfer of Colonel Mustang and his men.

**End**

**a/n:** We're going to pretend Hughes isn't dead. Just for fun. Just go with it .


	33. Visitation Rights

**Visitation Rights**

It was, well, I suppose you could call it a nice day. If you really wanted to. Truth be told, it was all too gray, with clouds threatening to burst any second.

The occupants of Colonel Mustang's office still hadn't quite noticed this.

Actually, they hadn't noticed much of anything.

_Except_ that they kept getting interrupted; both of them had noticed that, and were rather annoyed about it thank you very much.

Which was why when the door was thrown open _again_, Ed didn't even bother to pretend they had been doing something productive. Instead, he merely rested his forehead against Roy's and snapped "What _this_ time!"

Of course, in all honesty, he hadn't expected it to be Winry and Al who had come to 'visit'.

**End**


	34. Not Good

**Not Good**

Winry stopped dead, Al running straight into her back and nearly choked to death on the mouthful of blond hair he got.

Spitting it out, he sighed. It really was too early in the day for this.

And then he looked up.

Bam!

Even Winry managed to tear her eyes off of the two State Alchemists in front of her to see what the noise had come from.

Needless to say, she wasn't expecting to find Al lying on the office floor, clearly unconscious.

She blinked.

And spun on her heel.

And glared.

Ed blanched.

This was not good.

He slowly edged away from Roy, trying valiantly to find the edge of the chair. Maybe if he moved slowly enough the homicidal Rockbell wouldn't notice. And if he was lucky, once he reached the edge of the chair he could make a dash for the door.

Or the window.

Or a really thin wall.

**End**

**a/n:** A follow up to "Visitation Rights" what'd'y'all think? Hee hee, that was an interesting/long word… And now, I really want to write some weird pairings for Naruto. Like Kakashi/Gaara. Or Hayate/Genma…


	35. Four

**Four**

Everyone stationed in Central hated "Take Your Kid to Work Day".

It was just to be expected.

Because every time, without fail, Hughes would spend the entire day showing off his darling daughter.

Who really wasn't all that darling once you got to know her.

There were some people who appreciated the opportunities that arose from mass avoidance of the building.

Like Colonel Mustang for example.

One, he didn't have the beautiful yet deadly Riza Hawkeye threatening to kill him if he didn't finish his paperwork on time, she was too busy hiding in the closet.

Two, Havoc and Fury were undoubtedly too involved in each other in Havoc's office, so he wouldn't have either of them annoying him.

Three, as he had already seen Elysia on far too many occasions, and there were so many people in the building who hadn't been graced by her presence yet, Hughes generally stayed away from this end of the compound.

And four, last, but most certainly not least, Ed was much too scared of running into the Lieutenant Colonel to venture out of Roy's office even for a washroom break.

**End**


	36. This Way

**This Way**

Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist Extraordinaire, sighed heavily, his chin resting on a pile of completed paperwork. His face was getting covered in ink, as the papers were freshly done, and his signature wasn't exactly dry yet, but he hadn't seemed to notice.

That; or he didn't care.

Hawkeye raised her head when she heard the Colonel sigh, giving him a sympathetic look when she saw what he was doing.

The office had been quiet as the grave for about two weeks now, and Mustang was getting more and more depressed with every day that passed. And thus, everyone's morale was suffering. Let's just face it, it's hard to be cheerful when you're made to work overtime every day during the week _and_ come in on the weekends on pain of death, _without_ any extra pay.

For the first couple of days, they had tried to convince him to fix what he had done. He had quickly gotten tired of that and had held his fingers at the ready any time someone even looked in his direction.

Mustang sighed again, glancing up on the clock at the wall.

It was eleven o'clock at night. He should have gone home hours ago.

Of course, he couldn't really think of a dusty (not to mention empty) apartment as home.

His thoughts drifting, he found himself wondering where _he_ would be (in his apartment, pouring over some alchemy book that he had dug out of who knows where). _He_ wouldn't be planning on sleeping for at least another few hours, if at all.

Which meant, if he left now, he could get there before _he_ went to bed.

Roy pushed his chair back and peeled the report off his cheek. Standing up, he grabbed his coat, and bid Hawkeye goodnight.

Maybe it wasn't better off this way after all.

**The End**

**a/n:** -hides- I'm so sorry I took so long to update! Please please please don't kill me… Well, I hope you liked this. I may do a follow up drabble to it. Maybe. No promises, I know better now.


	37. All the Above

**All the Above**

Sometimes it took a little longer than usual for the office to calm down enough for everyone to actually start their work. This happened for various reasons, a few of such being a visit from outsiders, the wastebasket catching on fire, the radio being smashed, a wall being, uh, renovated, or a puppy/hamster/snake/fish/man-eating lion being brought into the office. That, or Edward Elric coming home from his latest adventure.

All in all, it was a normal morning at the office for everyone (a damn rare occurrence), right up until the point where Fury rushed in through the door, a golden retriever puppy in his arms, both of them panting.

It got easier and easier to ignore the squeak from Breda's corner of the room every time this happened.

In Mustang's office, Hawkeye continued what she was doing calmly, as though she hadn't even noticed Fury's arrival. Loading the last bullet, she laid the gun on her desk with careful precision; positioning it so that it was acting both as a paperweight and a deterrent for bad behavior.

Mustang himself, who had been hanging his overcoat in the closet, glanced around the door, rolling his eyes and turning back to his fight with a hanger when he saw Fury and the big ball of fur cradled against his chest. He had been hopeful when he saw the masses of blond, but not even Edward was _that_ short. That, and he wasn't due home for a few days more at least.

Fury let the dog down, and, of course, it ran straight for Breda, using its doggy instincts to single out the only person in the room who was more likely to scream than pet or feed it. Fury himself singled out Havoc, who had been watching Breda inch his chair back against the wall, a cigarette drooping between his lips (unlit of course, Hawkeye had her desk angled just so, so that she could keep the office smoke free).

The radio was tuned into the news, and everyone was waiting, well, patiently wasn't exactly the word, any way, they were waiting for that week's lotto numbers to be read out. This much was evident by the way all the chairs in the room were turned towards Havoc's desk (even Breda's from over in his corner, where the puppy was slobbering on his knees, ignoring the whimpering noises Breda was making), and the way five crumpled lotto tickets had been tacked on the office bulletin board, under their owner's name.

The first thing Fury did, even before saying hello, was pull his own ticket out of his pocket and hand it to Havoc, so that the Lieutenant could put his up for him. Once this was done, and Havoc was back to being sprawled in his chair, Fury (apparently coming to the conclusion that his own desk was too far away to bother) sat in his lap.

When the door opened again, Roy, having made it to his desk by this point, leaned over so that he could see around his own door. Once again seeing a shock of blond hair, Roy leaned over further, and promptly hit his head on the trashcan when his chair fell over. Swearing furiously, he pulled himself to his feet using the end of the desk, and, giving the garbage a dirty look, stormed over to Hawkeye's desk, pulled the bottom drawer open and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Ignoring her protests, and the loaded gun, he opened it, took a gulp, and stormed back to his own desk. Grabbing the trashcan and putting it on his desk, he emptied the scotch into it and, stepping back, jammed his glove onto his hand, and snapped, grinning widely as the sparks leapt from his hand to the alcohol soaked papers, igniting them easily.

The resulting explosion was ignored by everyone in the outer office, who were too busy listening raptly as the radio started listing numbers.

"05."

Ed, giving the others weird looks, clomped across the outer office until he was standing in Roy's doorway, which had smoke billowing out of it. He stepped aside as Hawkeye dragged a singed Mustang out by the collar, muttering obscenities even as she dumped him at Ed's feet. Roy looked particularly pleased with himself however, and had a dopey smile on his face as he listened to the support beams in his office start to give out.

"27."

Bending over and grabbing the Colonel's collar in much the same way Hawkeye had, Ed pulled Roy to his feet, nearly falling over himself as he did so. Hawkeye had since joined the huddle around the radio, not even bothering to give Havoc and Fury _the look_.

"32."

Roy blinked at the other alchemist, apparently considering the merits of falling unconscious in his arms. Fortunately, the scowl on Edward's face quickly discouraged that idea, because Roy had the sinking feeling that if he did pass out, he would probably wake up in the fountain in the entrance hall.

"83."

The puppy had stopped slobbering on Breda, and had instead bounded of to piddle on their sole plant (purchased three days ago by Hawkeye following the incineration of the last one), which was wilting and dying already. Smoke was pouring out of Roy's office, the desk apparently in flames.

"19."

Not giving a damn that he was getting covered in soot, and that his clothes were probably starting to melt from standing in the doorway, Ed, using the handy detail that he had Roy by the collar, pulled Mustang down to his level and kissed him. No one noticed, as there were only two numbers left. Farman, Breda, Hawkeye, Fury, and Roy had already lost, some of them even when the first number was called, but Havoc was getting more and more excited, because he already had five of the seven numbers.

"45."

Havoc had his arms wrapped around Fury, and was squeezing him until Fury thought his eyes might just pop right out. He could understand Havoc's excitement though, it wasn't everyday you had a chance to win the lottery. Fanning himself and gasping for air, Fury frowned. Was it just him, or was it hot in here?

"77."

Havoc pushed Fury off his lap, got to his feet, and grabbed the lamp next to his desk. As he bashed the radio with the stand, the door to the hallway opened again, but no one came in, their visitor instead just standing in the doorway, staring at the spectacle before him in disbelief.

There was smoke billowing into the outer office, the Colonel's office up in flames, a Second Lieutenant was beating the living daylights out of a poor unsuspecting radio, a First Lieutenant emptying her sidearm into the ceiling in an attempt to restore order, a puppy relieving itself on a house plant…

Not to mention the Colonel and what appeared to be a civilian with two automail limbs kissing in the burning doorway.

_Sometimes it took a little longer than usual for the office to calm down enough for everyone to actually start their work. This happened for various reasons, a few of such being a visit from outsiders, the wastebasket catching on fire, the radio being smashed, a wall being, uh, renovated, or a puppy/hamster/snake/fish/man-eating lion being brought into the office. That, or Edward Elric coming home from his latest adventure._

Of course, all the above was also possible.

**The End**

**a/n**: well, I hope that made at least some sense. I think I liked it, I'm not entirely sure. -grins- I'll have to get back to you on that one.


End file.
